


Show Me

by ObscureReference



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Game Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Tattoos, underage tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:59:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: "Let me see.""No." Prompto's voice was firm. He almost always wavered in the face of Gladio's determination, but this time he was surprisingly steely. He didn't budge. His fingers curled around his wrist as though he could hide the leather band from Gladio's sight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a self-indulgent thing I wrote between classes, and I put it up only on my tumblr first. I said I would post it here if asked, and one or two people encouraged me, so here it is. 
> 
> NOTE: I didn't know how to tag this in the warnings, but the game implies Prompto would have gotten his codeprint as a child, so tattooing a small child is referenced and portrayed as awful. But here's your warning in case you don't want to read that.
> 
> Takes place at some nebulous time period during the game. Early game? AU? Yes.

"Let me see."  
  
"No." Prompto's voice was firm. He almost always wavered in the face of Gladio's determination, but this time he was surprisingly steely. He didn't budge. His fingers curled around his wrist as though he could hide the leather band from Gladio's sight.   
  
The wristband wasn't that big. Two inches wide, max. Gladio couldn't imagine anything worth hiding under there. Prompto's left wrist was pale and bare. What was so different about the other?  
  
It had started casual and quiet, Gladio's fingers trailing up Prompto's bare sides. They were both sweat-slicked and drowsy, edging on sleep. And then Gladio brushed his fingers past that wristband Prompto never removed. Prompto had _jerked_ away, violent and startled. Immediately on edge, Gladio sat up, all thoughts of falling asleep pressed against Prompto's back in the next few minutes gone.   
  
And now here they were. Both naked, and Prompto barely clinging to the edge of the bed like he could somehow escape the confines of their hotel room merely by willing it. It would have been funny if Gladio didn't feel so much like he was suddenly facing a cornered animal rather than what he thought had been his—had been Prompto.   
  
His eyes darted to the leather band. Prompto always wore something on his wrist. Sweatbands, bracelets, a myriad of colorful rubberbands. Anything. He was never without some accessory. Gladio had noticed before, had thought it a quirk, but now it really nagged at him.   
  
"Just because we're—" Prompto stumbled over what term to use, and Gladio was struck with how childish that seemed. "—Doesn't mean I have to tell you everything."  
  
"So there's something to hide," Gladio said flatly.   
  
"No!" But it wasn't really a _'no'_ because Prompto's mouth twisted with guilt. "Can we just drop it?"  
  
"I'll drop it when you stop acting so weird about it."  
  
"I'm not acting weird!" Prompto's voice was strangled. Gladio stared at him.   
  
Prompto's eyes flickered to the door, and for a moment Gladio thought he was seriously going to make a run for it when Prompto's shoulders suddenly slumped, defeated. He didn't stop shielding his wrist, however. As though Gladio were going to actually pry Prompto's fingers away to get a better look.   
  
"Look, don't you..." Prompto's eyes traced patterns on the floor. "Don't you ever have things you can't share? Don't you ever have secrets?"  
  
Gladio's first response was to say _I thought we told each other everything_ even though that wasn't true, just to see Prompto flinch. He buried that thought instantly. He felt oddly... _something_ at Prompto's reactions. Hurt, maybe, at being kept in the dark. Too curious for either of their goods, possibly, wondering how deep this went. But Gladio didn't want to be that kind of man. He didn't want to lash out just because he could.   
  
His next response was to say _yes_ , but he wasn't sure he wanted to drop the subject just yet when this clearly meant a huge deal to Prompto. But they had just had sex, he had just cradled Prompto in his arms while they both came and then while he cleaned them up with a rag, and it was weird to talk like this so soon after. Like enemies. Gladio thought this was edging closer to a fight than he wanted at this hour.   
  
_Can't_ , Prompto had said. _'Don't you ever have things you_ can't _share?'_ Not _'I don't want to.'_  
  
So Gladio didn't say yes and he didn't say no, but he did say, "Come back to bed."  
  
Prompto hadn't left the bed. Not physically. But they both knew what he meant.   
  
Prompto stared at him. Thin strips of moonlight streamed in through the window, and his eyes shined back at Gladio despite the darkness. His pupils were huge. He breathed in heavily.   
  
Gladio made a show of laying back down. He shoved his hands under his pillow, his eyes never leaving Prompto's face.   
  
Eventually, Prompto slowly inched his way back under the covers. He laid on his side at first, facing Gladio. Then he flipped over like he had suddenly decided facing each other was a bad idea. It was a mockery of how they had lain only moments before. Gladio's chest didn't quite touch Prompto's back. He kept his hands under the pillows despite how much he wanted to pull Prompto close. Prompto curled up on himself. Limbs close to his torso, face hidden, every inch of his him tense. Gladio couldn't see the bracelet anymore, but it taunted him.   
  
They laid in silence for a long time.   
  
In the morning, Gladio woke up first, like usual. Something about his breathing must have given him away, or perhaps Prompto had never fallen asleep at all, because Prompto was up and sweeping across the room in moments, throwing on his clothes and gathering his things. His movements were rushed, hurried. He wasn't exactly cold. But he didn't look Gladio in the eye either.   
  
Gladio took this all in and said nothing. The slam of the door echoed behind Prompto as he left.  
  


  
  
Prompto didn't look at him for two days.   
  
He still cracked jokes, still whined with the best of them, but he never looked at Gladio.   
  
The others noticed, of course, but they didn't say anything. They were still efficient in battle, so it hadn't become a problem. Yet. Gladio knew Ignis would speak up as soon as it did, but he also knew Ignis and Noctis expected them to fix whatever it was sooner rather than later.   
  
Gladio wanted to scoff and say it was stupid. But it wasn't stupid to Prompto. So Gladio kept his mouth shut, unsure of how long he could keep it up before reaching a breaking point. He didn't make as much effort to talk to Prompto as much as he probably should have.   
  
On the third evening of Prompto's standoffish behavior, Gladio went out to gather wood before night fell. He was both surprised and expectant when Prompto followed.   
  
Prompto said nothing at first. He wordlessly gathered the fallen branches Gladio pointed to. Gladio tucked his own bundle of wood under his arm. The silence was stifling. The clearing was empty, but it felt like everything was dimmer, more muffled than usual. It had felt like that for days.   
  
They were a ways away from the camp site when Gladio finally spoke up.   
  
"Are you going to say something, or did you just follow me out here to look pathetic?"  
  
Prompto jumped. Two of the smaller sticks fell out of his hands, and he crouched down to pick them up, frowning. He stopped with his hand outstretched, however. He dropped the rest of the wood and brushed off his pants as he stood.   
  
"What are you—"  
  
"I'll show you," Prompto said, his words coming out so fast they bled into each other. Slower, quieter, he said, "I'll show you."  
  
Gladio didn't have to ask what he meant. Prompto's wristband stood between them like a wall.   
  
Gladio set his firewood aside. Prompto raised his hand to his wrist. He sucked in a breath to steady himself.   
  
"Just." Prompto paused. Every word sounded like it had to be forced out of his reluctant lips. "Don't."  
  
_'Don't what?'_ Gladio wanted to ask. He waited.   
  
Prompto pulled off the wristband. He rubbed at his skin and then held his arm for Gladio to inspect. Gladio took it.   
  
He studied Prompto's wrist, took in the newly visible black bars on Prompto's skin. He glanced at Prompto's face, then back to his wrist. It took a moment to realize what he was looking at.   
  
Prompto shrugged, looking at his feet. "I've always had it. I was born with it, I guess."  
  
It was a tattoo.   
  
"Since you were born?" Gladio echoed.   
  
Prompto nodded. He swallowed loudly.   
  
Gladio had tattoos. But he was a grown ass man who could make his own decisions, and there was a reason there was a legal minimum age to get tattoos. They were permanent. They hurt. And judging from the way Prompto had kept it hidden, it was obvious this tattoo brought up nothing but bad memories.   
  
_'I was born with it, I guess.'_  
  
Somebody had tattooed Prompto. As a baby. Somebody had taken a baby and dragged needles through his skin until he was marked forever. Belonging to— Something? Someone? Risking scarring and infections and pain on a child. Just because they could. For something Prompto wouldn't talk about.   
  
Gladio saw red.   
  
"Don't ask what it's from." Prompto's voice wavered. "Please."  
  
Gladio didn't look at him. Couldn't look at him. His entire world had narrowed down until he could only focus on Prompto's thin wrist and the black stain on his skin.   
  
Prompto hissed, and that was when he realized he was gripping Prompto's arm too tightly. Gladio released his hold, and Prompto pulled back, yanking a new wristband over his tattoo like he couldn't stand to look at it anymore.   
  
Gladio could still picture the tattoo perfectly. The digits that had been scrawled onto Prompto's skin like a manufacturing number. He opened his mouth.   
  
"Prom—"  
  
"I don't," Prompto cut him off. "I don't want to talk about it. If that's okay."  
  
He was quiet and sullen and wouldn't look Gladio in the eye. Just like before but now somehow worse. It was the most unlike himself that Gladio had ever seen him. He wanted to flip a switch and make everything go back to how it had been. Before Gladio had let his wandering hands get the better of him, and Prompto's panic made it all worse.   
  
"Hey," Gladio said. Then softer, "Hey."  
  
Prompto looked up at him through his eyelashes. His eyes were shiny like they had been the other night, only now they were shiny with extra moisture, not light. Gladio had always teased Prompto for being a crybaby, but he wasn't sure he had ever actually seen Prompto cry before.   
  
"You're okay," he said. He held out his arms, an open invitation.   
  
Prompto hesitated. His hesitation was the longest three seconds of Gladio's _life_ , like Prompto was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and his surprise when nothing terrible happened was almost palpable. It felt like someone had struck Gladio's heart with a sledgehammer.   
  
Then Prompto surged forward, and Gladio wrapped his arms around Prompto’s considerably smaller frame. Prompto buried his face in Gladio's collarbone, and while he didn't feel any of the wetness that hinted at tears, Prompto was shaking. He was trembling and breathing raggedly, and Gladio hadn't even gotten the full story out of him yet. Apparently he wasn't going to. That suited him just fine.   
  
_Bad topic_ , Gladio thought. Okay. He had gotten the feeling it was a bad topic before, but he hadn't considered how bad it was in reality. The past was the past. Gladio had been curious and a little offended before, but he didn't want to reopen any old wounds, though he apparently already had. Though he also wondered if they had ever really closed.   
  
He filed Prompto's tattoo under the Bad News file in his brain and inwardly made note to keep an eye out for anything relating to it in the future. Outwardly, he tightened his hold on Prompto and did his best to be comforting. He had been born to be a shield. It wouldn't work forever, but in this moment he at least tried to keep Prompto out of his own head and in the present.

Prompto shook. Gladio held him tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment below or hit me up on my [tumblr!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/) I love talking to people and reviews!


End file.
